


Palpable Madness

by RevengeWitch



Series: From Sun to the Black [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Tony Stark, Gen, Kidnapping, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Peter Parker-centric, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has Issues, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RevengeWitch/pseuds/RevengeWitch
Summary: “I’ve been telling you the reason all this time and you just don’t listen! I want out! Just for a walk! You can even put handcuffs on me...just let me out for a while! I feel suffocated!”The man finished bandaging his right hand and leaned back into the couch to look at Peter with observing eyes, he seemed to be considering it for a moment but then he shook his head sideways:“No.”-------This mini-fic is the aftermath of my other fic "Wrong Kind of Affection", this one doesn't really have a plot. It's more like a glimpse of how bad things got for Peter.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: From Sun to the Black [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704829
Comments: 27
Kudos: 222





	Palpable Madness

“Please, Mr.Stark…”

…

“Please! I can’t do this anymore! I--I need to…-- I have to get out!”

…

Peter looked at his ex-mentor with pleading eyes. The man was currently busy with bandaging Peter’s knuckles, and he looked angry. But Peter didn’t care about it, he wasn’t afraid of Mr.Stark’s anger anymore. They were past that point.

He’d been locked up in one of Mr.Stark’s safehouses for longer than 6 months now, he was at his wits’ end. His hyperactive nature was working against him every single day, hell, every single second. And the fact that he was living with the murderer of his last relative didn’t help at all. Which is why he was sitting in front of a very angry Mr.Stark.

He flexed his bandaged left hand, pain shot through his entire forearm. A hand lightly slapped him to get his attention:

“Did you hear a word I said, kid?”

“Did _you_ hear a word I said?” he retorted back.

Mr.Stark sighed and ran a hand through his hair with exasperation:

“Just answer the question, Pete. Why did you punch the window? You know damn well they are unbreakable, and I won’t even mention anything about your non-existent powers.”

He looked straight at him with distrust:

“I’ve been telling you the reason all this time and you just don’t listen! I want out! Just for a walk! You can even put handcuffs on me...just let me out for a while! I feel suffocated!”

It was true. Sometimes, Peter felt like his lungs were being squeezed and his brain was fogging up. Making him unable to think and bringing him near hysteria. His knuckles were enough proof, he was going mad. The lack of control over his own life was making him this way and there was nothing he could do except begging for a glimpse of freedom.

The man finished bandaging his right hand and leaned back into the couch to look at Peter with observing eyes, he seemed to be considering it for a moment but then he shook his head sideways:

“No.”

Frustrated tears burned Peter’s eyes at that and he leaned forward:

“Then I won’t stop.”

“Then I will cuff you to the bed for the rest of your life. If you want that, be my guest.”

Peter didn’t want to cry his eyes out, he had been doing that since the moment he got here. But the tears started rolling down his cheeks nevertheless, he didn’t bother hiding them with his hands anymore. Mr.Stark was pretty much immune to them after all this time.

He wanted to get out so badly, to see the sun, to feel the wind on his whole body, to taste the fresh air, to listen to the birds. He just wanted a moment of peace, he wanted to stop fighting with Mr.Stark, he wanted Mr.Stark to stop this madness.

They were both going mad here. Peter was going mad because he had no way out of this mess, Mr.Stark had made sure of that. The man was rich, powerful. Peter was just a boy with no one to fight for him, with no one to look for him. No one knew where they were, no one cared.

He also wondered how Mr.Stark deceived everyone. Peter and the Avengers weren’t close per se, but they had each other’s back when there was trouble. So somebody should’ve found him ages ago…Thinking about it made him lose hope.  


Peter remembered his first weeks here. All of the crying, all of the begging, all of the fighting, escape attempts…Some of them had ended with him cuffed to the bed, some had ended with him being sedated by his…ex-mentor. He remembered counting the marks that syringes left behind, remembered how he felt after waking up from each drug-induced sleep. His body heavy and unmovable.  


“Hey.”

Mr.Stark interrupted his thoughts and lifted his chin as he spoke with a low, velvety voice:

“I can tolerate you shouting at me, trying to hit me or trying to escape, but I won’t tolerate you hurting yourself. Okay?”

Peter nodded weakly. It was as if he was agreeing not to stay up late, this was abnormal. But he was just used to it, used to bow down to the man’s superiority.

“I want a verbal response, kid.”

“…Yes, sir.”

The man smiled at that and tugged Peter to his feet by holding his arm tightly:

“Good. Now, let’s get you to your bedroom so you can sleep and recover faster.”

“But I’m not sleepy.”

“I will help you with that.”

Realization hit Peter like a hammer and he dug his heels to the carpet underneath him while trying to free himself from the iron grip:

“No! I’m sorry, pl-- please don’t drug me anymore! They--they make me feel bad!”

Mr.Stark continued dragging him upstairs with minimal effort:

“Well, you can consider it a punishment too.”

“I don’t want it! I’m sorry, I really am! I—I won’t do it again! Please..!”

The man chuckled darkly:

“Yeah, as if.”

They arrived at the bedroom and Peter was thrown to the bed, he tried to get up and go around the man as he tried to prepare the syringe but didn’t succeed as he was thrown to the bed for the second time.

“Give me your arm, kid. Don’t make me hold you down, I really don’t like doing that.”

Peter knew there was no way out of this, he did as he was told. He felt the cold liquid mixing with his blood, the drug was slow-working when it was injected into the arm.

He lowered his head to the pillow and felt some of the tears fall down his cheeks and onto it. Mr.Stark wiped them away with his fingers and smiled fondly.

That was the last thing he saw as the void took over his vision.

“Don’t resist me, Peter.”

After 6 months of fighting, Peter decided to just give up. What was the point anyway?

This was his life now.

He had no choice but to get used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> The feeling of suffocation is the worst when it's caused by the limitation of freedom or if someone's blocking all routes of escape. I relate with Peter deeply but I can't describe it the best...Maybe I will try again after mastering my English.


End file.
